Come What May
by Neocolai
Summary: Gandalf arrives in time, but a life is still claimed in the Goblin Caverns. They were never meant to be separated. Tragedy alert! No slash.


Neocolai does not own the Hobbit or anything related to Tolkein's works.

**I had the stunning revelation that there really AREN'T enough GoblinstortureKili fics out there to satisfy the angst cravings of a maniac author. Hence my mind characters and I got to arguing again, and I realized I really was insane after all...**

**Here is a litttle tidbit of how Neocolai's brain turns before starting a fic.**

**(Neocolai): "I'm thinking..."**

**(Original Character Nathaniel): "Oh, no you don't. Not again. Would you just stop torturing Kili and killing his family with over-done angst? Honestly, what is it THIS TIME?"**

**(Neocolai): "Well, there just aren't enough Goblin fics out there! I am angst deprived! I's needs a torture fic!"**

**(Nathaniel): "You have a whole selection of favorites to choose from! You spent thirteen stories torturing the Durins, and you still haven't finished your last angst fic if you noticed, and there is a good list of at least ten Goblin stories for you to browse through again!"**

**(Neocolai): "I know, I know! But they're all the same! I mean, it's like, 'Oh, no, Kili is being tortured and everyone is held down or too loyal to Thorin to stop it. Oh, help, somebody do something because Gandalf isn't turning up in time.'"**

**(Nathaniel): "... You wrote one of those fics, Neocolai."**

**(Neocolai): "Exactly! Which gives me every right to complain about my own fanfiction. Now, since we have established that fact, I am BORED, I am angst deprived, and I want a bit of action instead of the usual emotional trauma that I write."**

**(Nathaniel): "Oh, goodie. So we get to see the usual, 'Oh, no. Kili is in danger. There is blood. Poor Kili gets sent home because he almost died and Thorin is worried sick about him. And of course Fili goes home, too, and Thorin dies in the end because his dear nephews are safe and happy in the Blue Mountains.' You are so typical, Neocolai."**

**(Neocolai): "Hey! I ended Embers differently, didn't I? Besides, I wasn't talking about a long fic - just a oneshot. You know, the usual 'Drag out the youngest' kind of thing ... except without that quote. I dunno, that's getting old. Once I use it in a fic I can't stand to see it anymore, you know?"**

**(Nathaniel): "... You are so weird. ... Can't you just do ONE fic where you don't torture someone within an inch of their life?"**

**(Neocolai): "Do you want the world to be in jeopardy because Neocolai writes humor? I could kill the Company off one by one again ... that would be funny."**

**(Nathaniel): "Desperate Measures turned out well."**

**(Neocolai): "And I almost died writing it. Humor and I do not go well together ... except with lots and LOTS of strong black coffee."**

**(Nathaniel): "Muses, get her coffee."**

**(Neocolai): "Okay, moving on! Torture fic. Goblins. Okay, needs to have a bit of originality here. I mean, knives, whips, the stretching rack... already used and overused, kay? So... we need something different this time or I will hate my own fanfiction."**

**(Nathaniel): "Here's a good idea: why don't you NOT torture Kili this time. I'm an Original Character, remember? I do not want Thorin to break into your mind world and kill me."**

**(Neocolai): "Oh, stop worrying all the time. Of course I'm going to torture Kili! What else is fanfiction for? Now, let's see... Mangler... um, might be too deadly. There's that spiked grate thingy from the movie... But he still needs to be able to walk or something afterwards..."**

**(Nathaniel): "Or you could just kill him and put him out of his misery for once."**

**(Neocolai): "Someday, Nathaniel, but do remember that I have fans who will... hold on. Wait a minute."**

**(Nathaniel): "No. No way. Whatever you are thinking, you are NOT going to do this. Neocolai, stop it. Now."**

**(Neocolai): "But if I ... and then maybe if... it could probably work if I ... oh, yeah. It's all coming together."**

**(Nathaniel): "... ... What have you done?"**

**(Neocolai): "MUSES! We must conspire together!"**

* * *

**And that is how this tragic fic came into being...**

* * *

**TRAGEDY WARNING!: I seriously made myself cry over this.**

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He could barely see Gandalf over the rush of goblins. Twisted faces snarled and whining screeches grated until he wanted to close his eyes and clap his hands over his ears to escape the nightmare. Fili's swords flashed orange in the light of torches, black blood spattering as goblin limbs and corpses littered the floor. Thorin shouted something incoherent, Orcrist pointing the way as Nori pushed his younger brothers through a breach in the front line.

Wiry hands gripped his shoulders and Kili slashed back, howls of pain accompanying severed fingers as his attackers fell back. Fili glanced back and sliced the head from another bearing down on his brother, the goblin's jagged scimitar passing a hair's breadth from Kili's shoulder before it clattered to the ground. There was no time save for a quick nod of gratitude from Kili before Fili grabbed his arm and the two brothers raced as one for the closing gap in the mob.

The attack from behind caught him off guard, and there was nothing Kili could do save to throw out his arms to protect his face as his back exploded in pain and he was flung to ground. The iron club caught Fili in the jaw next, sending him crashing back against Dwalin as the latter shouted in fury. Before Kili could even grasp the shock of the blow hands pulled at him from all sides, hisses of fury and hatred rankling in his ears as he was dragged away from the others. Too many goblins to count swarmed him, screeching vengeance for their destroyed king. Dwalin's roar echoed above the din and for an instant Kili caught a glimpse of Thorin, his expression pasty white and twisted with horror, before the hoard of viscous creatures once more blocked his sight.

He had only a moment to register the fleeting sensation of _fear_ before his back was slammed against the long nails of a rack, rusted metal jabbing into his body as he was secured against the iron grate. Eager to hear the squeals of their prey before the Dwarves stole him back, the goblins did even not bother to secure him thoroughly. With a snarl Kili wrenched away one arm free, shoving at the filthy creatures and prying at the metal encasing his bound wrist. Abruptly the goblins scattered, giving Kili but a moment to raise his arm over his face with a cry before the second half of the machine was released.

A squealing _clang_ like the snap of an old bear trap resounded in Fili's ears, and in that moment he knew his world had ended. He barely heard the gleeful howls of the goblins, so thunderous to him was the soft _'Oh!'_ wrenched from his brother's lips. Agony too explicit to voice twisted Kili's expression as long spikes impaled him from all sides, robbing him of speech as he sought out the one person who could help him bear this indescribable pain.

Anguished dark eyes met Fili's and the elder screamed his brother's pain, shrieks of anger and horror torn from his throat as he ripped his swords through the goblin standing before him. Red hazed his vision as he hacked at everything in his path, cleaving through the mass of writhing flesh as he fought to reach his brother. Only Kili's tormented, glazed eyes filled his vision. Only his brother's pants for each shallow, torturous breath could Fili hear. Nothing else mattered to him save that he rescue his baby brother from that horrible machine.

Orcrist sunk into flesh and bone mere feet away, and Fili risked a glance to the side. Thorin's face was livid as he fought alongside his nephew, his expression twisted in hate and despair as he mindlessly butchered every goblin that scattered within reach of his sword. For a brief moment Fili was truly afraid of his Uncle; of the savage and brutal warrior he could become when his most precious treasures were threatened.

Then his eyes were focused only on Kili, and Fili cried out as he saw the glimmering light fading in his brother's gaze. Dwalin's axe slammed down on the grate's hinges on one side, while a blast from Gandalf's staff obliterated the other. With a yowl of bereavement Dwalin shoved the upper half of the torture machine away, and from that moment time ceased to exist.

Thorin had no time even to grab Fili's arm and warn him with a glance before his nephew surged forward, shoving Dwalin away and clambering up the blood stained metal to gather his brother close. Wet, reedy pants sucked air into punctured lungs as blood, _'too much,'_ soaked into Kili's trousers and tunic until the material was stained black. Fili sobbed openly, gathering Kili against him as he fumbled helplessly with the metal encasing his brother's left wrist. A strike of Orcrist and two more from Dwalin's axe severed the bindings holding Kili's ankles and hand, before Thorin was once more forced to turn away as another wave of grotesque monsters swarmed them from all sides.

Pelting blasts of light from Gandalf's staff kept the worst at bay, but there were too many to hold back forever. Anguish ripping at his heart, Thorin rammed Orcrist back in its sheath and bent to carry his wounded nephew. A shadow passed over Fili's face and he struck out in fury, shoving Thorin back and snarling at him for touching his brother. With tears running down his face he cradled Kili in his arms, oblivious to the pathetic cries tumbling from his lips as he pleaded for his brother to hold on a minute longer.

It was already too late.

With a soft, shuddering gasp Kili slumped in his brother's hold, the flow of blood from a puncture wound at the base of his skull slowing to a trickle as his mouth fell lax and his eyes closed for the final time. Revelation dawned in Fili's eyes and he shook his head slowly, desperation filling his eyes as he gazed at the blood staining his trembling hand.

_"No... no, no, no, no,"_ he whispered, his breath coming hard and fast as he denied the truth that his very world had been torn from him.

Like a fist crushing his soul, existence ceased to hold any meaning for Thorin. Time slowed to a halt and he crashed to his knees as the sun that had lit their darkness was snuffed out like a candle in a gust of wind. He was all too aware that his cheeks were soaked with moisture, that his heart was breaking into irreparable shards and that he would never be able to live with himself knowing that he had virtually led his nephew to his death. Yet he could not dwell on those thoughts now; not when death would claim them all as they lingered here to mourn.

Tears causing his vision to swim, Thorin hoisted Fili to his feet and shoved Kili's body into his arms, ignoring the hysterical crying of his eldest nephew as Fili screamed that, _"He's hurt! We can't move him! You'll only make it worse, Thorin!"_

Blessed numbness filled his veins, settling the pain into an unbearable ache as he shoved Fili forward and drew Orcrist to hold back the foes convalescing in ever growing masses. The next moments passed in a blur to Thorin as he hacked away one goblin after another. The Company instinctively circled Fili, protecting the senseless young Dwarf as he struggled to put one foot before the other.

A flare of light returned to Fili's eyes and he hollered when one goblin drew close, kicking out at the creature so hard that his boot smashed its skull to pieces. He allowed no one to come near Kili, screaming when Gloin tried to help him and fighting tooth and nail when any goblin threatened to lay a finger on his baby brother. Never had such reckless determination controlled him. Ori stifled a gasp and shied away from the fervor in his eyes, and Thorin almost had to throw his nephew onto the swinging bridge when Fili hesitated lest he drop Kili.

Not even when the goblin caves were behind them and the howls of wargs goading them on did Fili relinquish his brother. He lagged behind, his feet dragging and his shoulders aching with the weight, and still he snapped and clutched Kili tighter the moment Thorin tried to take him away. He was grieving, as were all of them, but his senses had fled. No amount of shouting or coaxing would convince him that Kili was gone.

_"I won't let you take him, Thorin! He needs me! Don't touch him! Can't you see that he's hurting?"_

It was Dwalin who was forced to hoist both Fili and Kili into the tree at once, his sorrow nearly breaking him as the young one clutched his dead brother to his chest. Had not Thorin been there to grab Fili's arm they all might have fallen when the fir collapsed beneath the harrowing attack of the wargs, frenzied as the creatures were to reach the tantalizing scent of Kili's blood. Fili did not move even when his Uncle was nearly killed at Azog's hand, when the Hobbit instead of Thorin's nephews instigated the charge that saved his life. When the tree finally collapsed beneath Fili he could not bring himself to care. A sweet thought flitted through his mind; that perhaps Kili really was dead after all, and in a few moments they would finally be together again.

No celebration or joy filled the hearts of those who survived the warg attack. When the Eagle gently laid Fili and Kili on the Carrock Thorin stumbled to his knees beside them, pulling Fili close and holding him as the young Dwarf cried on his shoulder. Were it not for the blood marring his face Kili might have been sleeping beside them, curled onto his side with one crimson hand outstretched as though seeking his brother.

"He's cold," Fili whimpered, pulling away from Thorin and begging him with lifeless, yearning blue eyes as he gathered Kili towards him like a child. "Please, Uncle, can't we light a fire now? He - he doesn't like the dark. It scares him. He ... he's so cold, Uncle. _Please, _can't you do something to keep him warm?"

Without a word, his throat closed up with so much emotion that he dared not speak, Thorin removed his tattered and stained coat and draped it over Kili's body. Fili nodded his thanks and bent to kiss his brother's forehead, sobbing anew as he whispered that Kili could wake up now, as the goblins were dead and they were safe at last.

"He ... he won't wake up, Uncle," Fili pleaded anxiously. "Tell him to get up." When Thorin did not respond he shouted, "_Tell him!_"

Thorin flinched visibly and lowered his head, pulling Fili back towards him and hiding his eyes from the mangled corpse that had shone with love and laughter only a day before. Fili cried out and slammed his fists against Thorin's chest, wrenching away and screaming when Thorin tried to hold him still.

"N-no! You're wrong! He isn't - isn't - _Don't touch him_!"

Like a crazed animal Fili scrambled away, sheltering his brother and whispering soft pleas and promises that could never be fulfilled. Thorin remained where he was, broken and cast off, unwelcome to the only one who could have glimpsed a fraction of the anguish tearing him apart. Silently Balin knelt beside him, his presence radiating his empathy as another life was uselessly borne away.

One by one the Company separated into their own huddles, brothers comforting one another and nursing the guilt and relief that their family at least was still alive. Dwalin settled beside Thorin, exchanging a glance with Balin as the two lent their king their own strength. Nori and Dori embraced a weeping Ori, and tears flowed freely amongst the company as they watched Fili suffer alone.

Only Bilbo dared to come near after Thorin had been rejected. With quiet compassion he removed his coat, laying it across Kili's shoulders and bowing his head in grief for a young life that had been wasted. Fili stiffened but did not draw away, the hobbit's quiet presence lacking the threatening command which Thorin's demeanor imposed. Though he did not suffer Bilbo to touch him, Fili allowed him to bear a taste of his loss as he threaded Kili's hair in his fists and begged his brother to stop with his silly games and get up before they made their mother angry by being late for supper again.

Long into the night the pitiable display continued. Fili coaxed his brother with stories and rhymes until his voice was hoarse, imploring to Thorin that his brother could not be allowed to feel that he was alone. He once tried to sing a lullaby his mother had comforted them with when they were young, but his voice broke on the second line and he could not stop crying after that. At length he was too exhausted to think of fighting Thorin away, and when his Uncle wrapped an arm around his shoulders Fili clung to him and begged one last time that Thorin get Oin so that they could patch Kili up before it was too late.

"He... he's so badly hurt," Fili choked, clenching his hands in Thorin's vest as though sensing that words alone could not alter the situation. "The - the blood... it's all over, Thorin. He ... he needs a healer. You _have_ to find Oin, Uncle! He - he'll die if we don't help him!"

Thorin knew he should offer the empty promises Fili longed to hear; that his brother was all right, that he had already sent for Oin and Kili would soon be on the mend, that the wounds were not as serious as they appeared and all would be well in the morning.

He could not gather the strength even to lie to his nephew, however, and thus Thorin remained silent, squeezing Fili's shoulder in a bruising grip as the ache in his heart grew until he thought it would burst from the pain. He had not been ready for this; no one had. It was never meant to be his nephews. Himself, perhaps, maybe even another member of the Company. _Never_ Kili.

He knew this was a loss he would never forgive himself for, and in that instant Thorin welcomed D_i_s' rage when she learned what cruelty had befallen her youngest. He would take her beating fists and the sharp slap of his hand against his cheek. He would hold her as she cried and welcome the pain when she blamed him for her son's death, for she would speak no lies to him. He had killed her little Kili. There was no forgiveness for him in this life.

"Uncle, he needs to be kept warm." Fili's voice was cracked and faint, his strength long spent from entreating that his brother return to him. "Please, the goblins are far away from us now. Can't we build a fire?"

Gazing into the crackling flames licking at a ring of stones only a few feet away, Thorin nodded in slow, numbed acceptance. Fili cried out softly and rested his forehead against Kili's, wiping a smudge of dried blood away from his brother's face and pressing his lips against his brow.

"He's hurt, Uncle. We need to find Gandalf. He'll make it all right ... won't he?"

No answer was given, and silent weeping trembled through Fili's frame as he wrapped his arms around his brother and laid down beside him, tucking Kili's head into the crook of his neck as though he was a child again, seeking comfort after a dark and terrible dream. No longer did he speak, but his cries echoed long into the night until dawn spirited him away by the mercy of Aulë.

It is said that a lion shorn of his strength, an eagle robbed of his freedom, or a dove berefit of his mate will die of a broken heart. Kili had given Fili the strength to carry on, the freedom and breath for laughter, and the loyalty of a brother who could never be torn away. No small part of Fili had died with him: his spirit could not live on without the twin soul that kept him breathing. He had been slain the moment Kili had ceased to live, and now his body finally followed as he quietly slipped into the Halls of Mandos, never to leave his brother's side again.

They were buried together in Beorn's meadows; warrior princes honored for the courage of their hearts and a loyalty that would not be witnessed in Middle Earth a second time. His heart Thorin buried with them, and when the quest was at last finished and he held the Archenstone in battle ravaged hands he threw it away, for it could never replace two gems of far more value that had been sacrificed. When his wounds claimed his life Thorin asked to be buried not in the halls of his forefathers, but in the sunlit, peaceful meadows just shy of the Greenwood forest. No gold or jewels were placed in his coffin; only a handful of worn, silver beads and two clips that once belonged to his dearest treasures. Beside them his body rested, guarding them where he had failed in their final journey.

In one lingering, wistful dream after Thorin's death, however, Balin imagined he saw the pair of impudent, cheeky youngsters waiting on the verges of a Kingdom elsewhere, one bouncing on his heels impatiently while the other paced, until dazzling grins broke free on both of their expressions and the younger bounded forward to embrace his long lost king. Tears rolled freely down Balin's cheeks as he watched his king gather them into his arms, until together they stepped from the brink of Middle Earth into the peace they had long awaited. Thus Balin said his farewells, and thus he finally laid the Sons of Durin to rest.


End file.
